


The Fairest

by WarpedYouth



Category: Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Older Woman/Younger Man, Seduction, and no one can agree on what the guy's name was meant to be anyway, and the prince is called Florian, mostly because it fit the setting better than 'Ferdinand', not really but tagging it just to be safe, the Queen is called Grimhilde, unoriginal title is unoriginal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-11-02 07:55:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20675285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarpedYouth/pseuds/WarpedYouth
Summary: After the Queen sees a prince attempting to woo Snow White, she decides to take matters (and him) into her own hands.





	1. Chapter 1

Florian watched as the curtains were drawn closed, slowly hiding the face of the sweet girl. He supposed he couldn’t blame her for running off into the safety of the castle after he’d startled her, but the way she’d smiled and gazed at him, even sending a dove down to him… It made his young heart want to leap out of his chest for sheer joy. That a girl so utterly beautiful could clearly have interest in him…

“She is fair, is she not..?” Florian jumped at the sudden voice behind him and spun around, his eyes widening as he dropped into a polite bow at the sight of the Queen. Prince or not, it was hardly proper etiquette to be found without reason in someone else’s garden… As he straightened, he saw that her (admittedly surprisingly beautiful) face wore an expression that was an odd mixture of amusement and annoyance and he cleared his throat, feeling almost inhumanly awkward. “The girl,” she prompted, an arm appearing from beneath her cloak to gesture elegantly up to the curtained balcony, watching carefully as Florian followed with his eyes and seemed to melt where he stood. “Do you not think she is fair?”

“The fairest,” came the swift and sure reply, which was quickly followed by a worried look back at the Queen. “I-I… Forgive me, I didn’t mean… Your Majesty is very fair as well, of course…”

“But a serving wench in rags is more to our prince’s tastes?” At least the boy had the decency to look uncomfortable. She took the opportunity of him attempting to stammer out an excuse to size up the would-be love of her wretched stepdaughter. He was very fair himself, just on the cusp of adulthood so that his childish prettiness could still be clearly seen in the admittedly handsome man he was growing into. Of course Snow White would be attracted to such a boy… Waving a hand to silence the Prince’s inane stammerings, the Queen moved marginally closer and placed her hand in what would be perceived to be a friendly manner on the boy’s shoulder. “Alas, dear lad, your love would die before it ever even had a chance to breathe.” The confusion and sadness that entered his eyes at that made him appear even more beautiful than before and Grimhilde couldn’t help wondering if her Mirror only counted females in terms of the fairest – this young lad would give both her and the girl a serious bout of competition for the title if not.

“Why do you say so, Your Majesty?” Florian knew he wasn’t nearly as successful in his attempt to disguise the disappointment in his voice as he would have hoped to be. The hand on his shoulder tightened in what he supposed to be a friendly squeeze but which somehow felt far too _possessive_ to be such a thing.

“A prince must marry a princess, no? Or at least one of royalty.” She studied his face carefully, looking for any sign that he knew Snow White to be a princess and she felt a small rush of victory when all she saw was sorrow. She squeezed his shoulder again before stepping even closer, allowing her other hand to cup his cheek, lifting his gaze to ensure he could see only her. “And besides all that,” she said, sweetening her voice as she smiled down at him – a smile as charming and as terrible as a cat’s at the sight of a mouse. “You are fair enough for any woman you choose. Why choose some lowly ragged girl when a Queen would serve you better..?”

Florian found he could not look away from her eyes as she raised his head. They entranced and terrified him in equal measure, rooting him to the spot. When she smiled, a shiver ran down his spine and it took a moment for her words to register with him. When they did, however, it jolted him out of whatever had come over him, and he moved his head away from the hand on his cheek, forcing himself to break the eye-contact with her. “I-I… I cannot…” he mumbled dully, shaking his head. “I cannot,” he repeated, his voice growing firmer as his eyes lifted to the balcony where the beautiful girl had been not long before.

“She is so young.” The feeling of fingers gliding smoothly through his hair made Florian turn back to the Queen, swallowing a little nervously as he realised she was even closer to him than before. Her hand slid down from his hair to trace the line of his jaw with an almost-too-sharp fingernail. “She would not understand what you would require from her. She would not know how best to please you.” A deep blush settled in Florian’s cheeks at that – he was hardly experienced in any sense in that regard, but he was still a young man and even now he could feel his body starting to betray him. Grimhilde’s smile grew as she noticed the boy’s growing discomfort. He seemed to be almost as innocent as the girl was, probably still imagining that love and marriage began and continued with mere kisses and that children were delivered by storks. When she’d first seen the pair talking, she’d wanted nothing more than to have both their damned beautiful heads on spikes, but she was now very glad she’d changed her mind – corruption and heartbreak made so much more delicious punishments… The prince began to stutter out another of his excuses and Grimhilde swiftly moved to press a soft kiss close to his ear, silencing him almost immediately. “I know how to please a future king as he deserves…” she whispered into his ear, relishing in the full-bodied shiver that her words and proximity produced in him. The hardness in his breeches could no longer be denied despite his best efforts to tug the hem of his tunic down to cover it, and Grimhilde felt a sudden rush of desire such as she hadn’t felt in years to just claim him here and now in the middle of the garden. But she had a feeling it might be a step too far for the poor boy – the last thing she wanted was to have brought him so close to falling into her grasp and then to scare him away at the last minute. And so, with another kiss – this one placed just under his ear with a soft nip of her teeth following it – and a tantalising brush of her hands against the hardness between them which earned her a soft whimpering moan, she slowly stepped back and held out her hand to him.

Florian could barely register what was happening to him. He’d never been so overwhelmed by a mixture of sensations before and he was half afraid his legs would suddenly fail to keep supporting him and he’d end up a crippled mess on the floor before the Queen. Somewhere, deep inside his head, a small voice was still trying to warn him of the danger, to think of the sweet girl he had met, whose beautiful voice he had entered this damned garden for. But the thought of the Queen’s words to him were coming dangerously close to drowning that voice out. He barely lasted a minute before his shaking hand slid into hers, almost without him consciously acknowledging what he was doing. Her hand gripped his tightly and he was quickly led up the steps and into the castle, a sense of almost childish pride swelling in him as he realised she seemed almost as eager for this…whatever was going to happen, as he was.


	2. Chapter 2

Grimhilde guided the boy swiftly through the long and winding hallways of the castle. She briefly contemplated finding Snow White to show her exactly what her noble prince was, but ultimately dismissed the idea. It was too much of a risk – the boy needed to be completely _hers_ and if he saw Snow White before that could happen, then no doubt her sickening simpering and _beauty_ would charm him once again. So, she took the prince through passageways and tunnels known only to her, where there was no risk of anyone interrupting their journey, and they soon arrived in her chambers. It clearly took him a moment to register their destination and she chuckled a little as his eyes widened at the sight of her bed. He blushed again and his free hand began twisting nervously in his cloak. “You appear concerned, dear prince…” she couldn’t resist teasing him as she led him slowly towards the bed.

“I-I… We…” Florian shook his head, vaguely wondering why it was suddenly so hard for his brain to form coherent thoughts. “I-I just…” He became distracted again as she released his hand in favour of unclasping his cloak, letting it fall from his shoulders to pool on the floor behind him as she turned her attention to the fastenings of the tunic he wore over his shirt. “I didn’t think it was polite,” he finally managed to squeak out as the tunic fell open. “F-For us to be in here. A-Alone.”

There was a brief pause in the proceedings before Grimhilde began to laugh. Honestly, it astounded her that a prince at such an age could be so overwhelmingly _innocent_. Snow White’s innocence she could understand, it was not “proper” for a girl so young to be at all knowledgeable in such matters, but for a boy on the verge of manhood to be so ignorant? The boy must have been pampered and sheltered something rotten, even for a prince. At this rate, if he hadn’t been shocked to death by the end of this experience, she’d consider it a miracle. “Oh sweet boy,” she said once her laughter had subsided, shaking her head and pushing his tunic off to lie on top of his cloak. “It would be much less polite to have company in such a situation. Even if they are just guards.” She cupped his cheek and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, then another.

To his shame, Florian let out a soft squeak as she kissed him and marvelled at how soft her lips were. He’d never kissed anyone before but had always imagined lips to feel hard and probably slimy. Hers were the exact opposite and, as she kissed him again, he found himself clinging to her robe, not wanting the kiss to end for a long time. All too soon, she was disentangling herself from his grip and moving away from him, around the far side of the bed, and he could feel the same panic that he’d felt not two hours earlier when the girl had fled back into the castle, and he wondered what he could possibly have done wrong. With the worry clouding his mind, it took him a while to realise that she had removed her own cloak, hanging it carefully, and was in the process of methodically loosening the ties of her robe which soon fell to the floor and was quickly gathered up and hung with the cloak. Florian’s mouth went completely dry as she slowly moved back towards him, peeling garments from her body until she stood before him completely bare.

He knew he ought to turn away – really, he ought to turn and rush straight out of the room and out of the castle, never to return – but he just couldn’t bring himself to. His gaze couldn’t help drinking in every visible inch of her, her skin still so smooth and unmarked despite her age, her full breasts that swung slightly with each movement, a sight that only made them seem even more enticing, her slim waist and flat stomach, and a small patch of neat black curls nestled at the join of her legs… The discomfort in his breeches that he had felt earlier returned with a vengeance as she stepped closer and caught hold of his hand, pressing it to her right breast as she nuzzled slightly at his neck. “You see?” she whispered against his skin. “Your serving wench is barely more than a child. And you desire far more than that, do you not?” She bit down lightly on his pulse-point, earning a high-pitched whine. “You need a woman, a _Queen_.” Her hand brushed over the stiff organ trapped in his breeches and what remained of his sense of propriety was gone.

His hands desperately fumbled with the laces, pausing only to obediently raise his arms as she pulled his shirt up and over his head before throwing it back to lie in the pile on the floor with the rest of his clothes before she went back to trailing kisses and nips along his neck. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the ties were loosened enough to free his now almost painfully hard cock from its confines. The shame and embarrassment he knew he ought to be feeling was completely overtaken first by sheer relief and then a sharp spike of pleasure as he felt the Queen’s long, elegant fingers wrap around his shaft in a grip that was almost too tight. His legs trembled slightly and he instinctively wrapped his arms around her, clinging to her tightly and muffling his moans against the curve of her neck as she stroked him at a slow lazy pace. He was dimly aware of her other hand tangling in his hair and her lips on his skin but he did not recall them moving backwards until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed. He clung to her even tighter to keep himself upright, feeling rather than hearing her chuckle. “Sit, sweet boy,” she cooed into his ear, giving the lobe a soft tug with her teeth as he reluctantly released his grip, as if he were afraid she would disappear the instant he let go, and sank down to sit on the bed.

“My name’s F-Florian, Your Majesty,” he mumbled with a slightly startled look and an embarrassed blush creeping into his cheeks, as though it was just now dawning on him how odd it seemed to have reached this stage with their names still a mystery to each other. She raised an eyebrow, amused despite herself at the boy – _Florian’s_ – insistence on such formalities even in the current situation. But she knew what vulnerabilities came with revealing one’s name, and besides hearing him use her title sent a rush of pleasure through her, so she remained silent as she knelt before him.

Removing her grip on his cock – and thoroughly enjoying the involuntary whine of disappointment – she quickly finished undressing him completely, tugging off his boots and breeches, and gently scraped her nails along the inside of his thigh as she drank in the sight of him. He was certainly beautiful, caught in the transition from boy to man but somehow without any of the awkwardness or disproportion she’d seen in the boys she knew growing up. Instead, the residual boyishness just made him seem even more charming, the innocence that governed his nervous movements and stammerings reflected in his appearance until a couple more years would cause it to disappear entirely. Unconsciously, her nails dug deeper into the flesh on his thigh, leaving long red scratches in their wake, and she was rewarded with a low moan. She paused, taking a moment to realise what had prompted such a reaction, and scratched him again, lifting her eyes to his face to study him. His eyes instantly fluttered closed and his jaw clenched, another moan tearing itself from his throat despite his best efforts. Smirking, she glided her nails up over his leg and gently trailed them along the underside of his shaft. This moan was almost a shout and she watched with amusement as his arms seemed to instantly lose all their strength and he fell backwards to lie on the bed, his hands twisting into fists in the thick blankets. The poor boy was certainly making this exceptionally easy for her…

After a few more gentle scratches that had left Florian practically writhing and mewling with increasingly unrestrained desire, the growing ache inside her became too much for her to ignore any longer. As elegantly as ever, she rose and moved to straddle his lap, carefully avoiding letting him enter her. It was almost torture for both of them, but she slowly and expertly rolled her hips, unable to hold back soft moans of her own to mix with his as she rubbed along his shaft. She leaned down, bracing herself against his chest as she pressed a deep kiss to his lips. The sheer enthusiasm with which he responded sent a sudden rush of triumph through her that felt almost as good as any pleasure she’d ever experienced. As their tongues seemed to duel with each other, all she could think of was how he was hers – that girl with her beautiful face, her sweet voice and eyes and manner as innocent as his, she’d driven all thoughts of the girl from Florian’s mind to be replaced with something older, yes, but far more desirable. Eventually, the kiss broke leaving them both utterly breathless as they gazed into each other’s eyes. “I am fair, am I not?” she whispered, her heart beating wildly with nerves despite herself as she awaited the answer.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” came the panting reply, accompanied by a trembling hand reaching up to grasp her thick black hair that was starting to tumble out of its stylings. Florian’s touch was hesitant, as though he were unsure whether he was supposed to gain permission before laying a hand on her, but she found herself rather liking the way his fingers tugged at the stray locks. “You are very fair.” His eyes were filled with such adoration as he gazed up at her that she found she couldn’t hold back any longer.

Raising her hips slightly, she adjusted her position until she felt the head of his cock nudging at her entrance and she slowly slid down until he was fully inside her. His responding moans were like music to her ears and he pulled her down for another deep kiss. Quickly tiring of remaining still, she rolled her hips slowly, breaking the kiss to allow them both to moan at the sensation and tugging him to sit up with her. She continued rocking her hips, one hand tangled in his hair and the other digging into his back to keep her balance, leaving the occasional scratch which made him shudder and whine deliciously. She felt his hands gripping at her hips and thighs as his hips occasionally bucked awkwardly beneath her, his entire body desperate for even more. His lips found her breasts and he diverted his attention between them, kissing and suckling at one and then the other and she could feel him smile every time he drew a moan from her.

She was amazed by how quickly he seemed to learn exactly what pleased her and the knowledge that the innocent pure boy with all the manners befitting a prince whom she had first seen a few short hours earlier was now bucking and moaning beneath her – that _she_ had reduced him to this – made her almost giddy with pure delight. She increased the speed and energy of her movements, revelling in the increasingly debauched sounds filling the room: the breathless moans, the creak of the bed, the wet rapid sound of flesh hitting flesh… It was almost overpowering. “Am I not the fairest?” she gasped, her voice growing harsher in her pleasure and she gave a sharp tug on his hair to free her nipple from his teeth and allow him to answer.

“Y-Yes, Your Majesty,” Florian moaned loudly, arching his back as her nails dug into his skin with delight at his response. And it was true as far as he was concerned, especially in that moment – her previously pale skin was flushed, the fading sunlight pouring in at the open window providing it with a golden tint and making her green eyes gleam enticingly, her long black hair which was normally tightly pulled away from her face and hidden beneath a cowl was now pulled free and lay just over the top of her breasts. The serving girl in rags whom he had been so enchanted with earlier was barely a distant memory in his mind as he drank in the sight of the woman above him. He felt a sudden warmth and tightening deep in his groin and whimpered, wondering if something was wrong with him. The Queen obviously sensed it too as she kissed him and her motions grew even wilder and more forceful, drawing the odd sensation up until the warmth seemed to fill his entire body.

“That’s it,” she moaned, kissing her way along his jaw and clutching onto him even tighter. “Just let go, Florian. Come for me…” He barely understood exactly what she was asking of him but it hardly mattered. His hips jolted awkwardly and he couldn’t help letting out a shout as he felt himself swell inside her. He heard a soft cry mixing with his own and felt her shuddering in his arms as she seemed to clench hard around him. At first, he was worried that he was somehow hurting her, but then her hand was stroking his sweat-streaked back in a thoroughly soothing manner and her lips were back on his and gradually the intensity of emotion began to subside and he was left gathered in her arms and feeling more exhausted and contented than he could ever remember feeling before.

Grimhilde held him close for a while, debating on her next course of action as she felt him slowly drift off to sleep in her arms. She could admit she hadn’t thought this far ahead in her plan – clearly, it seemed the most obvious step to take was to ensure Snow White knew how easily her prince had abandoned his love for her, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to leave the boy just yet. It had been years since she had been so intimate with anyone – she’d had various guards and servants in her bed since the King had died, of course, but they had always seemed like business, required whenever she needed it and over and done with as quickly as possible. This had been different, she’d needed him to come completely undone and she’d enjoyed it far more than she’d anticipated. She lowered him uncharacteristically gently to lie back flat on the bed and slid off him. Taking a moment to flick her hair back over her shoulders, she eventually stood and turned to glance down at the prince as he slept. He was a mess, his hair ruffled, long red scratches along his shoulders and legs, his skin still flushed and glistening slightly with sweat, his now softened cock still covered in the evidence of their union... If Snow White were to see him in such a state, she was sure the girl’s heart would break in an instant. And yet, Grimhilde couldn’t help thinking as she crossed to the window to shoo away the dove that had landed on the sill and pull the heavy curtain across to block out the dying sunlight that she’d like to keep Florian as being just hers for a little while longer. She was no fool, she knew the things men said in the grips of passion couldn’t be trusted to mean anything, but she couldn’t forget the memory of him gazing at her with such intense desire as he asserted that she _was_ the fairest after all. She moved back to the bed and lay down next to him, placing a hand over the boy’s heart as his chest rose and fell with even breaths. She would make him repeat it over and over, every time she claimed him until she was certain she could bring the girl to him and know he would feel nothing for her.**  
**

**Author's Note:**

> So a friend and I were rewatching Snow White and we got to talking about the fact that nothing really ever came of the shot of the Queen watching Snow and the Prince meeting in the garden. I know there's a whole deleted subplot of the Prince basically getting Phillip's storyline from 'Sleeping Beauty', but our minds being what they are we couldn't help coming up with a different scenario.


End file.
